


Repression of War Experience

by leolovesnico



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - World War I, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Original Character(s), Simon has a brother, World War I
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-04 03:38:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4124308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leolovesnico/pseuds/leolovesnico
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The day Rick went to war, he said nothing to Kieren. He just...left. No celebrations or goodbyes, despite his father's protests. Leaving behind an empty bed, a weeping mother and a lonely Kieren, he made his way to France. It was his duty. He was a man now.<br/>But Kieren can't face life in Roarton without Rick by his side. He's determined take up arms and fight for his his country alongside his best friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dulce Et Decorum Est

_The day Rick went to war, he said nothing to Kieren. He just...left. No celebrations or goodbyes, despite his father's protests. Leaving behind an empty bed, a weeping mother and a lonely Kieren, he made his way to France. It was his duty. He was a man now._

The village of Roarton would move on without it's men, Kieren had come to learn. Pearl Pinder was serving as barkeep until her husband returned, and Rose Orton delivered the police. Only Bill Macy, Ken Burton, Vicar Oddie and his own father remained. Steve Walker morally objected to the war, the others were too old. Every other man between the ages of eighteen and forty five were off in France, serving God, King and country.

“Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori,” The Vicar would exclaim, every Sunday at Church. “It is sweet and noble thing to die for your country, my friends. Never forget that.”   
And Kieren never did. He shifted his feet nervously in the pews of the old barn, and felt the eyes of England watching him. Waiting for him to take his place alongside the other men making the 'Ultimate Sacrifice' for their country. 

He was just seventeen.

An average teenager sitting and his father's old pine writing desk, sketching out the face of his absent best friend. Kieren had just finished shading Rick's jawline when he heard his mother call him to dinner.

When he entered the room, it was hard to know if his family had heard the news. They were sitting around the dining table, politely waiting for him to sit before they could officially start the meal. It was soup today, a green soup that matched the unappetizing pea colour of the wall paper.

Their house was on the smaller side, leading them to coalesce a dining room and a living room into one. A small circular dining table sat in the far side of the room, opposite the door. As Kieren walked in, the mantle piece was on the far right wall, adorned with one of his better paintings from adolescence; his parents, smiling. Kieren cringed each time he saw it, now seeing all the mistakes he had made with the lighting and the lack of anatomical sense his father's seemingly boneless arm made, draped around his mother's too-broad shoulders.  
Two light brown armchairs stood on either side of the mantle piece, facing a long sofa opposite. The wooden floor had scuff markings from his father moving the furniture around every few months. Each each time he walked in, Kieren like to play a game with himself, to see if he could make it to the table without stepping on a scuff mark. However, today wasn't the day for games.

“Rick's gone.” Kieren announced as he made his way across the room to the dinner table. “He enlisted, and left for France this morning.” There was a wobble in his voice, he hoped his family didn't notice. They began to eat their soup in silence, as if he had not spoken. “He didn't say goodbye.” He added,in a soft whisper. Sue Walker turned towards her son, and offered him a sympathetic smile. Jemima bowed her head. 

“I'm not surprised,” Steve said, in a reasonable tone. “It's that father of his, he's always been pushing him to join the army. It wasn't fair on the poor lad, being forced away from home like that.” 

“He wanted to go, Dad. He'd been looking forward to his birthday all year. It'd be an honoured to be accepted, that's what they all say.” He replied. He wanted to approach the subject carefully, and raise as few red flags as possible.

“An honour to be chosen to blow some poor German boy's head off? Ha! That's likely.” Steve muttered. Kieren bit his tongue, and stared into his bowl of soup. A tense atmosphere filled the room that could only be broken by a question from Sue. A question that would change Kieren's life.

“Did you hear about Henry Lonsdale?”

 Kieren recognised the name. Henry was three years younger than him. The whole village knew of little Lonsdale, who's mother had managed to organise a search party, after he got lost on the way home from school once. They'd found him after half an hour naked in the middle of the lake, after someone stole his clothes while he was swimming. Rick swore it wasn't him, but Kieren remembered how much he had laughed.

“He got shot in Gallipolli, bullet through the throat.” Sue lifted another spoonful of soup to her lips and blew, before she continued. “He died. An awful shame, really.”

“The Lonsdale boy? He wasn't eighteen, was he? I thought he was about Jemima's age...”

“That's right, Steve. He was only fifteen, it seems whoever's running the recruitment office in Manchester is turning a blind eye.”

Steve's face fell, for his heart seemed to mangled by every death it faced. He shook his head, “Despicable. It's that Dean Halton – I'll have to have a word with him.” Kieren knew he wouldn't. His father was a quiet man, friendly and kind-hearted. Not at all the sort to seek out conflict. It was almost like he didn't notice how Roarton looked at him.

But Kieren did. He saw how the townsfolk looked at his family, with disgust and shame. Kieren imagined they were thinking of how Rick and the others were fighting for their lives, while his father refused to follow the orders from the King. _“Conchies.”_  He once heard Vicar Oddie spit, as they left church one day. The venom in his voice was terrifying, almost as though he was spitting poison at their backs while they walked away.

_He refused to put up with it any longer._

If what his mother said was true, he was sure to get accepted in to the army. He'd just turned seventeen, and they had already accepted an fifteen year old – Henry Lonsdale, no less. He was sure to pass. 

Kieren's thoughts were set alight, and he smiled into his soup. The flaming inferno in his brain was so loud he didn't even hear his mother change the topic. _He had made his decision._

A sharp pain on the shin made him gasp slightly. His head snapped up to see Jem staring at him intently. Like she knew what he was thinking of doing. She held his gaze, with a steel determination dancing in her eyes. He tried to look confused, widening his eyes and tilting his head. 

“What do you think, Kieren?”

He jumped, startled. “Hm?”

“That Gary Kendall fellow. The fancy looking one with the waistcoat. Always driving around town in his fancy car.” Steve supplied. 

“W-what do I think of him?”

Jemima groaned loudly. “Were you not listening? That buffoon came up to Mum and I today, while we were shopping in the market. He took Mum off to the side , leaving me alone with the groceries. Then, after a few minutes he stomps off like Mum slapped him in the face!  Apparently, he  _offered to marry me._ Mum turned him down, but he offered a..." She turned and glared at Sue, "A large sum of money. And she's reconsidering, Kieren. They're discussing throwing my life away for some money. And they've invited you to put in your opinion too! It seems to me like I'm the only one who isn't allowed an opinion of my own future!"

"You're only fifteen, Jem." Steve murmured.

"Exactly!"

"It's just that... Well, we didn't enough have enough rations for the groceries today. And he's already given you a dress." Sue said, gesturing behind Kieren's head, to the furthest corner of the room, to the left of the door. Sure enough, a long garment hung off of the grandfather clock. It seemed to be a soft ivory with a clear sky blue ribbon hanging from the waist. The sleeves came to elbow length and the hem seemed to touch the floor. "Since we... don't have your grandfather's money anymore... Well..." She cleared her throat, "You won't be sixteen for a while, love. There'll be no wedding until after then." His mother's tired tone worried Kieren. It suddenly occurred to him that his parents had fallen victim to time and hardship. His mother's tight up-do was dotted with grey hairs, and his father's face was becoming more lined each day. Their clothes were clean, but old. The patching was almost taking over most of the fabric.

"There won't  _be_ a wedding!" Jem snapped. "I'm not going through with this." Kieren watched his sister flee the room, wishing he knew what to say to console her. The ceiling light shook from the sound of stomping above, and a bedroom door slammed. 

"W-well, let's get stuck in then..." Steve stammered. 

After dinner, Kieren went to his room. “Don't bother me.” He told his family, “The piece I'm working on can't be interrupted in any way.” His parents exchanged a confused glance, but nodded.  _I'll write them a letter_ , Kieren decided,  _maybe then they won't be too angry when I get home._    
He sought out an old leather valise from the back of his cupboard, and filled it with everything he thought he'd need. Socks, underwear, spare clothes, and money. He hesitated, his hand hovering over his art supplies.   
He bit his lip, and furrowed his brows, and brought a shaking hand towards the vignette. He had hand-painted it, himself and Rick in the cave, just outside the village. Rick's arm was around his shoulders. Kieren remembered how it felt on that night, warm and hard as a rock. He stank of sweat and his father's aftershave. He had painted them huddling in the candlelight. There was no candle when it happened – just darkness and fumbling and sweat. The cold January air had turned his fingertips blue. He lost his gloves at some point, when they were running through the woods, searching for treasure. It was a childish game, even at sixteen, but they didn't care. They just ran and ran.    
He didn't dare bring this painting. The trenches were bound to be muddy – it'd get smudged. 

A floor board creaked outside his door. Kieren's shoulders tensed. 

“Kier?” 

His heart pummelling his chest, he grabbed his duvet and pulled it over his open valise. "Don't come in, Jem. I-I'm busy." Kieren spluttered, knowing his protests could never stop his sister in her path. She opened the door slowly, revealing a tear stained face.

“I know what you're doing, Kier. You're planning to join the army. You're running away.” She said, edging towards the bed. Kieren shook his head, and opened and closed his mouth like a stranded fish. “You can't leave. Not now, not with this marriage dangling over my head! You can't think this is right, surely?”

“It's not right.” Kieren confirmed. “They can't force you in to it if you're only fifteen though.” He didn't deny that he was planning to leave. He trusted that Jem would keep his secret, even for a few hours until he got to Manchester.

“I'll be sixteen in November. The legal age of consent to marriage.”

“Well, you don't consent!”

“I won't be given the choice, Kieren!” Jem snapped. “It's different when you're a girl!” Kieren didn't reply immediately. He sat down on the bed, and considered what his sister had said. “It's different.” She insisted quietly. Kieren nodded, agreeing.

“Jem, I don't think anyone could force you into anything.” He told her with a small smile. “Keep doing what you're doing, and if you still need help when I get back, I'll do what I can.” Jemima came towards her brother, and pulled him into a tight hug, saying nothing. They both knew this was their silent goodbye.

After his sister left, Kieren turned back to his luggage. He eventually settled for three pencils, a sketchbook, and a hand drawn portrait of Rick. After he waited for his parents trundle upstairs, and for the gentle snores of his mother begin, a strange excitement washed over him. He crept downstairs, and shut the back door quietly. It felt like small needles were dancing all over his body, erasing any thought of drowsiness from his mind. The train station was not far from here.

He was ready.

_He was going to enlist._


	2. The Parable of the Old Men and the Young

Manchester didn't earn it's industrial reputation for nothing, Kieren realised, as he tried to settle down for the night in an abandoned warehouse just outside the city centre. In his grandfather's time, Manchester was known as 'Cottonopolis' for it's bountiful cotton trade, and this served Kieren well now, he used some old rolls of cotton as his pillow and blanket. It wasn't too cold or wet inside the warehouse, to Kieren's surprise. The warehouse had been left recently, he guessed. The corrugated tin roof had only just begun to rust, and a considerable amount of cotton rolls left scattered around the room, and no hints of rodent invasion were to be found, yet.  In just a few hours it would be morning, and that's when he feared things would really get difficult. 

Come morning, he began his mission. The recruitment office wasn't at all what he expected - a tiny windowless room in the back of the post office. Instead, he found it on the high street, a medium sized, well lit room on the second floor of an office building, with walls of olive green and a beige carpeted floor. Almost every inch of the wall space was covered in propaganda for the war - banners, posters and paintings of smiling soldiers with captions like: "YOUR COUNTRY NEEDS YOU" And "WOMEN OF BRITAIN SAY GO". A line of mannequins stood to Kieren's left, exhibiting the uniforms he would soon be wearing. The uniforms increased in rank as they made their way across - from the 'Private' almost brushing Kieren's hand as he walked in, to "Major" reaching over to the far-left wall, where there was another door, left ajar. Inside seemed to be measuring equipment.

"Kieren Walker!" Dean exclaimed. "The old conchy finally freed you from his cage then?"

 Dean Halton was a Roarton local, just a few years older than Kieren.  He had been among the first in the village to be drafted into the army, being nineteen when the began. Kieren had hoped the upperclassman wouldn't recognise him, but he suspected that it wouldn't make a difference either way. 

He grunted a non-committal reply, accompanied by a shrug. After setting his valise down by the door, the young boy walked towards the centre of the room. 

A long, but cheap table stood opposite the door, which Dean sat behind. He looked different now, from when he left. His shaggy blonde hair had been chopped up to a crew cut, according to military regulations Kieren guessed. But, his face was also different. He had dark bags under his eyes, and his cheeks had hollowed out. He looked like he had swallowed up by hell and spat out again. However, he was still smiling and  _that's what mattered_ , Kieren thought.

 There was another man too - an older man in his late fifties sat to Dean's right. He seemed like a relaxed sort of man, and strangely frail looking, but he held himself tight - like he was ready to pounce at any moment. He was grinning, Kieren realised, behind his salt and pepper moustache. His eyes glittered, as if Kieren were his prey.

"You're acquainted with this one, Lieutenant?" The man asked Dean, in a reedy Welsh accent. 

"He's from Roarton, sir!" Dean replied, with a hint of pride. 

"Aha! Another Roarton Rambler, excellent!" The man exclaimed, almost hopping out of his seat. He reached out and shook Kieren's hand with vigor."Warren Bourne, my boy! That'll be Major Bourne to you soon. Roarton villagers are some of the best we have out there! We lost one of yours recently though, didn't we? So tragic!" He said, continuing to smile. 

"Do you know Rick? I mean, um, Private Macy?" Kieren asked hopefully. 

"I have no idea who you're talking about!" Major Bourne cackled.  

"The Major only arrived this morning, Kieren." Dean said in a strange, almost sarcastic tone. "My usual partner is going back to France today, Major Bourne is only standing in until someone-"

"Right! Let's get down to business then, Kieren. How old are you?" The Major interrupted.

"S-Ei-Nineteen." The boy paused. "Sir!"

He glanced at Dean, hoping he would do nothing to give him away. Dean stared back, confused for a moment. Then, he winked, and began taking notes. 

"Excellent! Shall we move on to your medical examination? Halton, take Mr Walker into the next room. I'll see to the notes." said Major Bourne changing from a pleasant to a cold tone, sending a chill down Kieren's spine.

"Right-o!" Dean chirped, as if he had  been brought to life, all of a sudden. He nodded to Kieren, and cocked his head towards the door by the 'Major' mannequin. Kieren followed the older boy inside the room, and shut the door carefully behind him. 

"Good job, Walker." Dean sniggered, "Now, strip yourself."

"W-What? Good job?" 

"The lying. You don't think you're the first boy to come in here acting like a man, do you? That one, Rick did the same. Said he was nineteen, like you did. Just old enough to be sent overseas, actually. If I didn't know any better, I'd have said you planned it together! C'mon now, off with the clothes." Dean said.

"We didn't!" Kieren protested, unbuttoning his shirt with trembling hands. "Plan it, I mean. We didn't plan it."

"Your secret's safe with me, Walker. Between you 'n me, the more young'uns we have signing up, the better. Numbers are dwindling out there." Dean said solemnly. For a moment, he seemed subdued, like he had just remembered something. He looked away from Kieren, and stared at the wall opposite.

"Will I just...?" Kieren gestured the measuring apparatus leaning against the wall, now wearing just his starched white undergarments.

"Hm? Oh, yes! Come up to this, er, this  _thing_   here so I can get your height." Dean said, back in his hauntingly chipper self. Kieren obliged. 

 

After Dean had taken all his measurements, Kieren was ushered back into the previous room. He was thankful that, he had been allowed to re-clothe himself before Dean forcefully pushed open the door. Major Bourne seemed to be waiting for them, the door had barely opened before he asked "Well, my boys! How are the numbers looking? Do we have another Roarton rambler on board?"

"Mr Walker's measurements are perfect for field work, Sir!" Dean said, answering with as much gusto as he could muster within himself. He nudged Kieren back towards the centre of the room, and took his seat alongside the Major, who seemed to be cackling with joy.

"Excellent! Excellent, excellent, excellent!" The Major exclaimed, leaning towards Kieren. "Just what I like to hear! Eh, Lieutenant Halton? Now, more of the boring stuff I'm afraid..." He glanced down at the myriad of papers covering the table. "You've completed the year long training course,  _haven't_  you?"

Kieren's heartbeat increased suddenly. He could hear the blood rushing through his ears. "Th-The training c-c-course?" He stammered, fingering the hem of his shirt nervously. 

"Yes.  _You've completed it, I would_   _assume_?" The Major did not lift his head from his notes. Dean nodded at Kieren vigourously, willing him the correct answer.

"Yes?" Kieren tried miserably. The Major raised his head slightly, his eyes were twinkling. "Yes! Of course, I have!" Kieren retried. Dean smiled, and nodded more slowly. 

"Good answer, Kieren!" The Major laughed. "And I, without a doubt, inspected your certificate of completion!" He said with a wink as he ticked something on his notes. Something lurched in Kieren's stomach suddenly. A twinge of regret? An inkling of fear? He didn't want to know, and did his best to quell his doubts. 

"Perfect! Now, where do we send you..." The Major said, almost to himself. He rifled through the many sheets of paper scattered around, and pulled out one that Kieren suspected was was a list of platoons. He  wished that he could be reunited with Rick, but he had no idea what platoon his friend was sent to. He  stayed silent, and allowed the Major to make his choice.

"Platoon 195 is running low, Sir." Dean murmured. 

"Hm? Which one is that now, Lieutenant?"

"Epstein's lot. Epstein from London."

"That's the Jew, isn't it?"

"Erm, yes Sir?" Dean seemed to falter at the question. "I believe Captain Joseph Epstein is Jewish, Sir."

"Hm. Well, I suppose... Yes! That'll do just fine!" The Major stamped a final sheet, and handed it to Kieren. "Have fun, my boy! Show the next lad in, will you?"

Kieren looked at the paper in his hands, then back at the men behind the desk. "Is that it? I'm in?"

"Yes! Exciting, isn't it? The train to London leaves in a few hours, and the boat to France leaves from there. Goodbye!"

"Er, well thank-"

"Goodbye, Kieren." The Major said more forcefully. "England needs you, do not let her down." Kieren sensed this was the end of the conversation, he nodded at the men, picked up his valise and quickly fled. He felt strangely afraid of the Major. Although he seemed friendly - perhaps overly familiar, there was something about his presence that Kieren didn't quite understand, or maybe even unnerved him. The Major seemed like a man without fear, a man who had never faced the consequences of any of his actions. He was a man to be wary of.

Once outside, Kieren set himself free, unable to contain his joy and excitement. He let out a tremendous bellow that echoed back at him from the almost empty morning streets. "YES! I DID IT! I'M COMING RICK!" He shouted in triumph. He threw his head back and laughed loudly. The sky did not share his joy. The grey clouds stared back at Kieren, almost telling him to regain his sensibility, or keep his wits about him, after all, he'd need them in the future.

"Hahahah, look at this one! You got in then?"

A man in a loose ill-fitting white shirt and patched-up grey trousers was leaning against the brown bricked wall of the recruitment office, highly amused by Kieren's outburst. He wasn't much older than himself, Kieren guessed, perhaps around twenty. 

"Uh y-yeah. I did!" Kieren found himself mortified that his outlandish display of happiness had been witness by a complete stranger. "Sorry for my...outburst." He muttered, avoiding the man's searching brown eyes. 

"Don't worry, it's already forgotten!" The man looked Kieren up and down, with an unreadable expression on his face. He rubbed his hand down his chest, then held it towards Kieren. "If I get in, I'll make your celebration look like you fell asleep!" He babbled happily. He wasn't from England, it seemed. Kieren doubted that he had ever heard this accent before.

Kieren shook his hand with slight reluctance, although he was quickly warming to the stranger. "I'm... certain you will! Where is it that you're from?" He couldn't stop himself from smiling, perhaps it was the result of succeeding to join the army, but he found himself opening up to this man. Not in a philosophical, spiritual sense, but he could sense that this man was the cheerful, foolish kind who could talk for hours about nothing in particular. 

"I'm from over the waters - in Dublin, Ireland!" The man said, clearly proud of his heritage. "I'll bet you thought we were all ginger!" He pointed to the mop of black hair perched atop his head. "Oh, and my name's Jude! Jude Monroe!"

"Kieren Walker." Kieren supplied. He had never been to Ireland, but he had had neighbours who moved there a few years ago. The Lancasters, if he remembered correctly. Jem had been close to their daughter, Lisa. Although he was never the best at Geography in school, he remembered that Dublin was the capital of Ireland, and it was about as far south as Wales...

 _Wales!_ Kieren recalled what the Welsh Major Bourne had told him to do. "I think you're wanted inside now." He said to Jude.

"Oh yes! Do I look okay? I lost all my luggage on the boat..." Jude turned to the side, giving Kieren a profile view.

"Erm... you're fine, I think." said Kieren, taken aback slightly.

"Excellent!" Jude rubbed his chest again. "Wait for me, will you? It'd be nice to be have someone to talk to on the train." He ran inside before Kieren could reply, and shouted over his shoulder, "Thank you, Kieren!" 

Kieren grinned, and leaned against the wall where Jude had stood before. He felt things were off to a good start. After all, he had already made a friend!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading for this far! I'm glad to say I've kept my uploading schedule thus far, although it's only the second chapter - that's a good start! Completely unexpected from me, hahahah!  
> Jude is Simon's brother, and he plays a major role in how they meet! :D I can't wait for you all to get to know him!


	3. Greater Love

The soft vibrations of the train were comforting to Kieren. The truth was, he was beginning to get anxious. He knew his parents would definitely be awake now, and wondering where he was. He thought of Jemima, and the goodbyes they had exchanged. Did she lie and buy me more time? Kieren found himself pondering. If his parents knew where he was, he knew they would waste no time in following the train to London and dragging him back home as soon as he arrived.

In the seat next to him, Jude was rattling on about his pet cat back home... or was it a dog? Kieren wasn't listening as hard as he should have. He felt guilty for that, but his mind was already preoccupied with the possibility that all his plans could become undone as soon as they reached London. Jude didn't seem to care whether he was listening or not, he just seemed happy to have an audience.

He was delighted that Jude had gotten through, of course. Although, The Major didn't seem to be too selective. Kieren was glad to have someone to share his journey with, a friend perhaps. It was possible that Platoon 109 wasn't Rick's platoon at all, and he would be alone when he arrived. He was slightly desperate to ask Jude where he had been assigned, but he was afraid of overstepping his boundaries. Kieren often found it hard to overcome his introversion.

"And my brother, Simon - he's... he's at home right now, but when he found Eimear playing with the dead bird, well, my dad says he's always been _sensitive_. You can imagine how that ended, so." Jude guffawed. "If you ask me though, I think the only reason he made a fuss about it is because Eimear always lies on his clothes when he leaves them on his bed. They get all hairy, and Simon is really particular about his appearance. Well, I mean, that or he wanted to share his latest depressing poem with everyone. Anyway, bet you've never been to a funeral for a crow before!"

Kieren shook his head. His head was already full of worries and doubts, that he had forgotten that he had been to a funeral for a crow before. He and Rick had found it in the woods, not far from their cave. They were eleven and twelve years old, respectively. Rick had wanted to bring it home with him in his lunch box, and use it to frighten the younger children. Kieren, however, insisted that they bury it. In his eleven year old mind, Kieren believed that the avian corpse possessed a sense of dignity, and deserved a fitting burial, suitable for his noble lifetime. Rick whacked him with a stick. However,he eventually conceded to Kieren. They covered the crow in leaves and and sticks, and made a circle of wildflowers around it. Rick muttered the last few lines of the 'Our Father', and then preceded to race Kieren home. This memory would not resurface in Kieren's mind until later.

"Jesus! We're nearly in London! That last hour and a half flew in, eh?" Jude ran a hand down his chest again. Kieren wondered if it was a nervous habit. "C'mon, let's get ready to get off. Want me to get your case from the luggage shelf?" Kieren nodded, and reached for his coat. 

The boys followed the bustling crowd out of the station, pausing only to observe the city maps pinned to the wall of the station. To Kieren's relief, his family was nowhere to be seen. It was possible that they would be on the next train, but he doubted it would arrive on time before he left on the boat. 

"Hey, Kieren - do you want to grab some lunch before the boat leaves? We still have an hour, after all!" said a hopeful Jude, craning his neck to look for a place to eat. 

"I am... fairly hungry." Kieren conceded. He hadn't eaten since yesterday's soup with his family, he realised. "Let's see if there's a bakery nearby. We should be quick though, you need to buy new clothes if your case was stolen on the boat."

"Won't they provide us with a uniform when we arrive?" Jude asked. He looked almost spooked, and spoke hesitantly, like Kieren's suggestion was an unpleasant surprise. 

Kieren considered this for a moment. "I suppose they will. I mean, I didn't get one from the Major, did you?"

"Naw." Jude confirmed. "And they took our measurements, so." He shifted his feet uncomfortably, balancing the weight from one foot to the other. "Anyway, let's find a bakery. I'll buy us a whole cake! Maybe even two!"

"Let's not get over exited!" Kieren laughed as Jude grabbed him by the wrist a dragged him towards the small colony of buildings in the hope of finding food.

They boarded the boat to France just under an hour later, carrying in tow one cake, two jam doughnuts, and six cream horns, along with Kieren's valise. Jude had a surprising amount of money with him, not that Kieren was one to be jealous. Rather, Jude's shoddy clothing had lead him to other conclusions. He was curious about his companion's financial status, but knew better than to ask - his father had taught him well. Jude chose a pair of seats on the boiler deck, the middle terrace of the boat, where they would sit for almost the next nine hours. 

The boiler deck had a roof, but this did nothing for the men who were caught unaware of the rainstorm that greeted them on the English Channel. Kieren was not one of these men. He had grabbed a coat before he left home, but Jude insisted on shielding himself behind a much larger man, rather than accept Kieren's offer of using his old clothes. "They'll be far too small on me - you're such a skinny wee thing!" Jude lied.

"Okay, I've been wondering, who's this Rick one?" Jude asked Kieren, out of the blue. He bit into his second cream horn, and clarified his question. "The one you were shouting about earlier, after you were accepted into the army? He sounds important to you."

"Rick is... Well, he's..." Kieren paused, considering his words. What words could be used to describe how he felt about Rick Macy? It seemed impossible to explain their bond to an outsider. It was a completely original experience, Kieren believed, electrifying and terrifying, yet relaxing and comforting. When his mind wandered to Rick, Kieren felt like he was like hugging a sleeping wolf. Like he had come home after a long journey to find a stranger sleeping on his bed.   
"He's my best friend." Kieren finally decided. Unlike Jude, Kieren struggled to make himself heard above the wind. "My best friend." He repeated, although the term didn't cover half of how he felt.

"That's good! Sounds like he means a lot to you." Jude said. "Do you mean the same to him?"

This question surprised Kieren. "Of course I do!" He exclaimed, slightly offended at any suggestion to suggest the contrary. "We've been best friends for years!"

"You're probably right." Jude said more quietly. He diverted his eyes from Kieren's sickened stare, and wiped some cream from his mouth. He ran a hand down his chest once more, and shivered from the cutting wind and rain. Kieren was searching for words to jab at the older boy, but Jude was afraid to engage him again. He was so afraid of ruining what ever rapport he had built with Kieren since this morning. He was terrified of being alone, especially in a camp full of professionally trained men of the military. 

"What makes you think," Kieren asked slowly, "That I don't mean anything to Rick?"

"I didn't say that."

"You implied it." 

"No! I mean... It's just... Well, he left you behind. He left you at home, while he ran off and joined the army." Jude stammered to a seething Kieren. "That just doesn't seem like a best friend to me."

"He had no choice." Kieren snapped. "It was his- He wanted to- You wouldn't understand." 

Jude quietly sighed. "I'm sorry, Kieren. I shouldn't have asked, I'm not good at... filtering. Do you know what I mean?"

Kieren knew exactly what Jude meant, although he had never had that problem himself. Everything he said was carefully prepared and rehearsed in his head beforehand, for fear of misspeaking and making a fool of himself. Kieren nodded,and grabbed a cream horn for himself. "Why did you join then? I thought Ireland had it's own troubles right now." 

Jude Monroe grimaced at the reminder. It was very true that Ireland was having it's own troubles, especially in Dublin where he lived with his brother. Trouble was brewing on the streets, a large group of people had grown sick of England's control over their country and they were planning... things. Jude didn't know what, although his brother Simon was playing a key part in the events. He didn't want to know be honest, he didn't want anyone to get hurt if he got involved. 

"Well, a lot of Irish men are joining up because of the similarities between Belgium and Ireland. Small nations looking for freedom, and whatnot." Jude said, for that was also the truth. "Some are also hoping that England will reward us with... well, our country, if we win." 

Kieren nodded. "I suppose that makes sense." He said. "Did your brother join up too?"

Jude snorted loudly. "Simon? No! No, he'd never... no." He took another bite, and chewed slowly. Then he spoke with his mouth full: "Simon's very proud, and patriotic too. He would never do anything to help you English bastards." He swallowed. "No offence intended." He finished with a grin. 

The tension diminished after that, although the weather did not. After a few hours of menial chatter and gentle encouragement, Jude finally exchanged his drenched shirt for Kieren's old jumper, although he refused to change in front him. He went downstairs, instead. Despite his overwhelming extroversion, Kieren realised, Jude was more shy than he let on.

Kieren also started on his letter to his parents, although it was hard to begin. Jude tried to help, but his perpetual upbeat mood did not suit the mood. He began with an apology:

_Dear Mother and Father,_

_When you read this I will be in France, although Jemima has probably already told you. I honestly apologise for disobeying you both and running away; as well as any pain or worry I may have caused you. However, I do not regret my decision. While I love you both, I could not bear Roarton without Rick in it._

Jude peeked over his shoulder. "Good start, I'd say." He said, patting Kieren's back. "I didn't realise that you ran away too!" Kieren glanced at him, confused. "I ran away too," Jude clarified. "My brother would be mortified if he knew what I planned to do... Maybe explain how you felt about Rick?" He suggested, changing the subject.

"He's my best friend." Kieren said. "They knew that. Everyone in the village knew that." 

"I'm certain no best friends go to these lengths to be together." Jude said pointedly.

"What're you saying?"

"I'm asking," Jude said slowly, "If you're in love with Rick."

"What?" Kieren was certain that he had heard his friend correctly.

"Are you in love with Rick?" Jude repeated at an even slower pace.

"That's... I mean... we're both boys..." Kieren stammered, feeling himself blush. Putting all his feelings in order, the shoe seemed to fit. The possibility both terrified and excited Kieren. "Doesn't the Bible say...?"

"The Bible's against war too." Jude yawned. "Ecce ego mitto vos sicut oves in medio luporum estote ergo prudentes sicut serpentes et simplices sicut columbae." He paused. "Oh, of course, you're a Protestant... 'Behold, I am sending you out as sheep in the midst of wolves, so be wise as serpents and innocent as doves.' That's Matthew; ten-sixteen."

Kieren pondered this new revelation. It felt new, and scary, and perfect. How wondered how long he had been in love with Rick. He wondered if Rick felt the same way. Most of all, he wondered how this would affect his life at home.  While neither of his parents were particularly religious, he could never predict how they would react to, well, whatever this was. He turned towards Jude. "I think I am in love with him." The words felt like he regurgitated an iron nail his from mouth. They had an unpleasant taste, but he definitely did not want them back inside him. "I'm not putting that in the letter though."

Jude shrugged. "Glad I could help." He yawned again. Their long journey would soon be coming to an end, and it had taken it's toll on Jude. He was getting drowsier by the minute. Kieren and Jude had managed to pass seven hours chattering, deeming each other as agreeable companions, and those seven hours were beginning to show. Kieren caught himself stifling a yawn too. "We'll be arriving soon. You should save the rest of your letter for later." Kieren nodded, folded the paper up,and slotted it inside his trouser pocket. He could see the coast of France in the distance, growing larger and larger as they approached the docks. Before long, he could see the people standing on the docks too, some were waving and some were pacing back and forth, however most stood still and greeted the oncoming ship with crossed arms and blank expressions. 

Jude did not grab Kieren's wrist this time, when they made their way off the boat. He grinned wildly at him instead, his apparent excitement had awoken him from his drowsiness. Kieren could feel himself almost _vibrating_ from anticipation of possibly seeing Rick again - especially after his newly discovered feelings. He could not tell if his'anticipation' was positive or negative. While he longed for Rick, he could not bear it if seeing Rick in this new light would taint their friendship. He couldn't stand the thought of losing his best friend. 

Kieren winced as Jude roughly elbowed him in the ribs. The older boy cocked his head towards towards a man standing waving at the boat. Behind him, was a dark green battle bus. Kieren recognised the contraption from a picture Rick had shown him in a newspaper. It was in an advertisement for recruitment, way back when the war first began. The front looked like most cars, but it had some kind of extension on the back with a second level and a curved set of stairs on the back. The waving man looked like he was in his forties, with a large moustache that matched his greying brown hair. From what Kieren could see, he wore an emotionless expression which accompanied a pair of thick rimmed glasses clung to the end of his nose. His stance was straight and rigid, definitely military - despite his bulging stomach saying otherwise. "I think we should go to him. He looks important, so." Jude said, already turning towards the battle bus. Kieren followed suit, although in a much more timid shuffle, rather than Jude's confident stride. He shoved his hands in his pockets, and stared at Jude's heels moving in front of him. 

"Hello! We're here to fight - against the tyranny of the Germans and for our freedom!" Jude yelped, saluting the man as they approached. Kieren groaned inwardly and averted his gaze. This conspicuous display of patriotic enthusiasm and over-eagerness was not the first impression he wanted the other man to have of him. In face, he didn't want them to have an impression at all. He would have preferred they did not have an impression at all, the last thing he wanted was to be under an unnecessary spotlight. However, the man with the moustache grinned warmly. Or at least, he tried to. While all the muscles moved in the right directions, his smile came across with the ambience of pity and an undertone of regret. 

"That's just what I want to 'ear." He said in a hushed tone, with a strong cockney accent. "I'm Cap'n Joseph Epstein of Pla'oon 109. A' you boys with me, then?" Kieren nodded with relief as Jude exclaimed:

"I am, so!"

Epstein tilted his head towards the battle bus. "Go on in. I'll gather up the res' of a' troops." He began waving once more, completely straight faced. 

"D-do you know Rick Macy? No, erm... Private Macy?" Kieren asked before he could stop himself.

The Captain nodded, and said, "I know Rick Macy very well, although most around 'ere call 'im Lieutenant Macy." He tried to smile again, but Kieren had already began walking towards the bus. 

_Lieutenant?_ Kieren thought,  _Rick, you've been here two days, you can't have been promoted already?_

He made for the back of the bus, but Jude intervened quickly. "Hey, come up here! Best seats in the house!" He was standing at the top of a curved set of stairs at the back of the bus, leading to a second balcony. The edges jutted out a metre wider than the main body of the bus below, which worried Kieren, although he tried not to show it. He jogged up the stairs, and chose a seat in the middle, behind Jude. 

They were not alone in the bus, Kieren realised. A man in his late twenties, with an accent Kieren hadn't heard before, introduced himself as Luis Dormier. He pronounced his name as 'Dorm-E-ay', which Kieren found hard to wrap his tongue around, although he tried his best. Luis preferred not to talk to Kieren and Jude, and instead sat by himself at the far end of the bus, saying nothing. 

More men joined them on the bus within ten minutes. Although, there weren't as many as Kieren expected. They drove off with barely half the seats filled, down a country road, and then an older dirt road, and then a grassy lane. After an hour, they reached a large, old farm.

Or, well - it used to be a farm. It was a fair sized farmhouse, with a huge barn, surrounded by muddy fields and rusted troughs filled with rainwater. Despite being devoid of animals and crops, lines and lines of men in uniforms ran around a circuit, stopping at certain points to do push ups or sit ups. Kieren poked his head out the window, trying to spot Rick with no avail. Jude was looking out the window too, watching the running men and smiling, because he had made it! Despite all of his doubts, and fears, and everything Simon had warned him about. He was here.

"We 'ave arrived,boys." Captain Epstein mumbled. "Off the bus now. Meet Lieutenant Preston behind the barn - 'ell sort you out with uniforms and the like." 

Kieren wondered if that was Freddie Preston, a neighbour who once gotten so drunk that he came into their house one evening, and accidentally kissed Mrs Walker, having mistaken her for his fiancee. He hoped that it wouldn't be, in case he would reveal Kieren's real age to tube captain and have him sent home.

He followed Jude off the bus, gathering information about his surroundings. Even Jude was silent at this point, staring open mouthed at the training field.

"This isn't the trenches, kid. It's a rest camp. It only gets worse from here." A familiar voice said. "So don't get too comfortable."

"Freddie Preston?"

"Kieren Walker? You're here? Jesus Christ." Freddie snapped. "I can't believe you're eighteen already. Jesus Fucking Christ." Kieren frowned. This wasn't the Freddie he knew. What'd happened?

"Aren't you supposed to be behind the barn to give us uniforms?" Jude asked.

"Swapped with Rick." Freddie said, before walking away. 

Jude turned to Kieren and grinned, "Looks like you'll get to reunite sooner than we thought, so!" He squeezed his friend's hand in reassurance. 

Kieren nodded with a small smile, slightly giddy with hope. He turned the final corner that would bring him to the posterior of the barn.

Rick was not there. 

Luis Dormier, the Frenchman from the bus, stood in full lieutenant uniform and saluted them. Kieren's heart sank.

"Kieren Walker?" Luis asked. Kieren nodded. "Special present from Major Bourne. He said you wi-ell use it well?" He handed Kieren a uniform. 

"Do you know where Lieutenant Macy is?" Kieren asked. "He was supposed to be here..."

"We de-ed a swap, just now. He ees talking to Captain Epstein, I believe?"

"Merci." Kieren squeaked before running off, leaving Jude in the line.

He ran around the other half of the barn, and finally spotted Rick. He was standing where the battle bus had left them off, moments ago. Rick was talking to Epstein, as Luis has said. He seemed agitated, or angry even. Kieren wondered what was wrong. He didn't want to approach him just yet. 

Epstein put out a palm in a calming motion, and patted Rick's shoulder. Rick didn't react well. He pushed Epstein's arm off, and said something particularly malicious to the Captain, judging by the reaction it received. Epstein looked at Rick for a moment, and then merely walked away. Kieren took this as his chance, and sprinted towards Rick.

"RICK!" He shouted, smiling widely. Rick turned. His face was full of venom and rage, but it wasn't enough to dissuade Kieren. "I'm here, Rick! I made it!"

"Kieren." Rick spat.

"We can fight together now! The two of us, side by side - fighting for England!"

Ricks face did not change. "You 're not supposed to be here." He snarled through clenched teeth. "Go home, Kieren. I don't want to see your stupid face around here." He said fiercely. 

Kieren's heart sank. "R-Rick?"

"GO HOME!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking around! Amy joins us in the next chapter! :D


	4. Before Action

Rick and Kieren stood for a moment, staring at each other. Rick was breathing heavily, with his hands balled into fists at his sides. Kieren met his gaze steadily, with clear disappointment in his eyes. What Rick had said to him was slowly sinking in, and the despair stinging his eyes was getting bigger by the second. However, he didn't cry. Not yet. Rick thundered off after a few seconds, back towards the farmhouse. He was gone before Kieren could think of an equally cutting reply to feed his temper. He swore under his breath, and went back to find Jude. He retraced his steps back to where he had last seen his friend - behind the barn, collecting his uniform. 

When Kieren arrived, Jude was no longer there. Not that Kieren expected him to wait around for him, but checking the last known location seemed like a logical approach to the situation. Luis, however, was still there, despite the line of men having dissipated after receiving their uniforms. He turned his expressionless face towards Kieren and said, "Congratulation for the uniform."

"What?" Kieren wondered if Luis had confused his English grammar, or perhaps vocabulary.

"The uniform. Eet ees second Lieutenant."

"It is?"

"The Major said you deserved to be promoted." Luis said, almost sadly.

Kieren looked down at the uniform in his arms, still folded up and wrapped in plastic. He hadn't even glanced at it before. Sure enough, a cross inside a diamond was stitched in white thread onto his khaki coloured cuff. He looked back up at Luis, who was clearly trying to hide his discomfort about the situation. Kieren wondered about the things Luis had been through in his life. As a black man in the early twentieth century, he had overcome struggles that Kieren couldn't even imagine. He was incredibly skinny too, and even shorter than Kieren himself, with a shorn head and sunken eyes. 

"Thank you." He said to Luis. "I'm sorry, you must've worked hard to become a lieutenant."

"I deed." said Luis. "Eet ees my career. I joined before the war." He paused. "I would like to be a Major some day."

"You'll make it." Kieren told him, although he was uncomfortable with where the conversation was headed. "Have you seen Private Jude Monroe?"

"Every one ees eenside. Eet ees getting dark, you and the rest of the new arrivals weel see the nurse tomorrow. For health checks."

Kieren nodded. He wanted to find out more about his mysterious promotion, but Luis didn't seem like the right person to ask. He had to inquire further up the chain. "Okay, thanks."

"One more theeng, Kieren. All men of second lieutenant and above get their own rooms away from the other men, with two beds each. Thanks to you, there ees now an odd number. There will be a spare bed een your room. As far as I know, you can do what you like weeth it. Maybe choose one of the "tommies" to join you?" He said knowingly. 

"I... Will. Thanks." And with that, Kieren ran inside to search for his friend. 

 

The inside of the barn wasn't as dark as he expected, many of the men had  lit lanterns, and they were scattered around the floor where small groups were quietly chatting or playing cards. Most of the men, however, were sleeping on the floor and on piles of hay or straw. A pile of discarded crates served as a makeshift set of stairs to the second level of the barn, where even more men were sleeping, although there was less straw strewn around. The whole building still faintly smelt like animal dung, and mice seemed to hop from one tin hat to the other without much fear, but aside from that it didn't seem like a wholly unpleasant place to be. The roof and walls were intact, and judging by this large crowd, there was always company. Kieren scanned the swarm of faces and bodies before him, trying to find one that would look particularly familiar. 

 

The soft buzz of men's voices hung in the background, almost comforting for a young man missing home. Jude had never been in the presence of women for much of his life. His mother had died when he was young, and his new baby sister didn't live long after that. His father, being a staunchly Catholic man, never remarried, and his older brother Simon, simply was never interested in  the female gender. He had taught Jude a lot about life, and practically raised him while their father was busy 'Being A Widower', and doing his duty of drowning his sorrows. 

Jude had never had much of an interest in women either. Well, not romantically, in any case. He had many friends of the female kind, and he loved each of them dearly. Unlike Simon, he didn't have an interest in men either. He was simply happy to be Jude. Besides, he was only twenty, he had plenty of time to settle down with someone, of any gender. 

In the past few years, especially after his father passed away, their home was often full of men, every night of the week. Not for romantic or sexual reasons, but because Simon had become involved with some political radicals he had met in a pub. From what Jude could tell, they were planning some kind of uprising or rebellion although they would never let him join in on the meetings unless he joined them.

He drew his legs up to his chin, and tried to remember the feeling of his woollen blanket at home. He could swear that blanket still smelt like his mother, despite Simons scoffs that he had barely even known her. She had been given it when Jude was born, and it was barely more than a little blue rag at this point. Even so, he missed it. He even missed Simon. But most of all, he missed his father. 

He grabbed a few handfuls of straw and tried to cover himself with it, to hide from the draft that whistled around the barn. This loneliness was exactly what he wanted to avoid when he tried to befriend Kieren. Honestly, it did irritate him that his new friend had ran off without him, but he understood why Kieren did it. He wouldn't hold it against him.

"Jude?" Someone stage-whispered. "Do you know where Private Jude Monroe is?"

It was Kieren, crouched down mumbling into the ears of some of the other men. "Kieren!" Jude whispered loudly, until he got his attention. "Kie-ren! Kiie-reen!"

 

Kieren shuffled over to meet his friend, near the back of the barn. He hopped and stumbled and tripped over sleeping soldiers, until he reached him. "Do you want to sleep in a real bed?" He asked quietly. "From what I gather, there's a spare bed in my room, in the farm house! I'll explain on the way."

They walked back to the farmhouse, with no wrists being dragged this time. They spoke in hushed tones, about the day they had spent together, and their hopes for the future.

"Right," Jude said, "So you're a second lieutenant, and Rick, Freddie and Luis are lieutenants. They're higher in the... thing than you?"

Kieren nodded. "The military hierarchy, yes. Two to a room, and there's no other lieutenants, so hopefully you sleeping on the other bed shouldn't be a problem."

"I don't see why it would be." Jude shrugged. "Thank you for thinking of me, so." He wriggled his feet out of his shoes, without untying the laces, while Kieren changed into his pyjamas. "Why were you promoted though?"

"I have no clue, honestly." Kieren told him, climbing into bed. "I'm going to try and ask Captain Epstein tomorrow, he might know."

"He said to call him Joseph, he's not a fan of the whole ... Military thing." Said Jude. "He mentioned it after the rest of us collected our uniforms. You were already with Rick... How did that go, actually?"

"Awful." Kieren informed Jude of the gory details of his reunion with Rick, leaving out no expression or hand gesture. "I'm not leaving though. I didn't come here just for him, I came for my family."

Jude said nothing.

"I did." Kieren insisted. "You have no idea what it's like, having to live up to this standard to be treated well by society, and my fath-"

"I know exactly what that's like." Jude suddenly snapped. "I know all about society's expectations, okay?" He paused. "Sorry. It sounds like Rick really cares about you though."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, he doesn't want you to get hurt, does he? That's what it sounded like to me. He wants to keep you safe."

Kieren clenched his stomach muscles as a warm tingling feeling slowly began to spread from his naval, to his fingertips. Rick cared about him. Rick couldn't stand it if he were harmed. The thought made him grin widely, although he hid it from Jude.

"That's ridiculous." He said to Jude. "It's not like I'm going to die. Afterall, it's 1915! It'll all be over by next Christmas. Besides, why would he care more about my well-being than his own?"

"Maybe he's in love with you too."

"Pfft." Kieren rolled over in his bed, and stopped replying to Jude. He just drifted off to sleep, with those words playing over and over in his mind. _Maybe he's in love with you too..._

 

The next morning, Jude shook Kieren awake at sunrise. The birds had just begun to squawk at the changing lights in the sky, and the daisies in the field had not yet opened their petals to face the new day. 

"Better get into your new uniform, Lieutenant!" Jude chirped, far too brightly for Kieren's liking at this hour. "We're seeing the nurse today, so you better look your best!" Jude had already changed into his new uniform, and Kieren noticed how much more confident his friend felt in fitted, clean clothes - especially ones without holes. He had combed his black mop of hair back, and clipped a tin hat around his neck. His immensely freckled face held the widest smile Kieren had seen yet. A smile of pride. 

"Come on!" Jude groaned, pulling Kieren's duvet back. "Up! Up! Up!" 

"Alright. _Alright_." Kieren grumbled, slowly trying to sit up straight.  

"I'll wait outside, hurry up." Jude demanded, and bounded for the door. He could barely believe how close he was to beginning his military service, and the only thing standing in  his way was this check-up. Jude wondered if the nurse would make them undress in front of her. That was the last thing he wanted. _I wonder if I should talk to her before hand,_  he thought. _Maybe if I speak to her, I won't have to._

Kieren didn't take long to pull on his new uniform, but his new boots were so heavy, he could barely walk downstairs in them. He hobbled down slowly, with Jude just one step behind him. At the bottom, Freddie and Rick were talking hushed voices, with Rick leaning on the stair bannister. As Kieren passed them, Rick grew silent, and glared at the him. Freddie responded with an almost reproachful look at Rick, but he seemed too exhausted to actually express an emotion. 

Kieren tried to ignore them. He dragged himself out of the farmhouse, and towards the barn, where a group of rookie soldiers congregated. He recognised them from the boat across the channel. "Hello." He said to them meekly. "Is this where we line up to see the nurse?"

One of the taller men, of around thirty five years old looked him up and down, and snorted. "You're a lieutenant, you should know!" He said. He had longer hair than the rest of the men, pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. His mouth held a ready smirk, accompanied by thick raised eyebrows, and dangerous darting eyes. He was more tanned than the other men too, as well as being much more well built. Kieren hated him immediately. 

"Don't be stupid!" Jude laughed, "He doesn't even know why he's a lieutenant! Leave him alone, Lawrence."

Lawrence's eye narrowed, yet reached for Jude's hand. "And who are you?"

"Jude Monroe. I heard you talking in the barn yesterday evening. You own Lawrence's landscaping, don't you?"

"I do! Well, my father does. I'm Jack Lawrence." He said warmly.

 "Well, I hate to be the one to break it to you, Jack. But you're going to need that scraggly rat tail chopped off the back of your head before they let you anywhere near the guns, so!" Jude sniggered. Kieren watched on, too stunned to speak.

Lawrence threw his head back, and laughed heartily. "Watch your mouth, you Irish bastard!" He guffawed.

"Alright, troops. Nurse Dyer is ready for you all now." Freddie drawled, making his way towards the cluster of soldiers. "Follow me. She's in the stables behind the farmhouse. Single file please." Jude slipped in behind Kieren, and Lawrence pushed his way to the front, flapping his tongue to the other men about how the nurse would fall for him with one glance. Kieren couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes, detesting Lawrence more and more by the second. 

They followed Freddie around the back, like a mother duck and her ducklings. "That Lawrence man is a little ... pompous, don't you think?" Kieren whispered to Jude. The older boy shrugged.

"I like him. He seems friendly enough to me."

 

The stable was practically falling apart, it seemed much older than any other part of the farm. The wooden slats were damp and mouldy, and half of the roof had been blown off by the wind. It was however, devoid of hay, straw, and animal faeces so it wasn't  _completely_  unhygienic for a medical practitioner to work in, despite the fact that it still smelt like the horses lived there. Nurse Dyer leant against the stable door, with a friendly smile on her face. She wore a long blue dress that covered her ankles and wrists, under a long white apron tied tightly around her waist. A white veil pulled back her long brown hair, revealing a clean, round face with loving eyes. She seemed the the kind of woman who would really care about her patients.

"Morning boys!" She sang. "Who's up first, then?" Lawrence glanced back at the others, and winked saucily. He strutted up towards Nurse Dyer, and into the stables. Nurse Dyer greeted him privately, and closed the door. 

"Friendly enough?" Kieren asked Jude incredulously. "He's an absolute pig."

"He likes to tease, nothing wrong with that." said Jude, shrugging. Kieren snorted derisively. "We can agree to disagree, alright Kieren?"

"Fine." 

Lawrence swaggered out of the stables, grinning to himself. "She fell for me, men. The rest of you don't stand a chance."

"She fell for you? Are you sure she didn't collapse from your stench?" Jude called. 

"No! Why do you ask? Getting self conscious, are you Monroe?" Lawrence shot back, sniggering. He separated himself from the other soldiers and went to the barn, to retrieve his cigarettes from his case.

Kieren looked at Jude pointedly. "Again, friendly enough?" Another man went into the stables.

"Nothing wrong with a little insult based humour." Jude said, avoiding Kieren's eyes. "You have to give as you receive."

"I think friends should just be nice to each other." Kieren said in a nonchalant tone, which grated on Jude's nerves slightly. 

"Well, we're friends and we're nice to each other." He pointed out. "Or are you saying that you don't think I'm nice to you?"

Kieren backed down immediately, and shrugged. "I just... I don't like it when... you give off a different vibe when you talk like Lawrence." He confessed to Jude.

"I'm... intimidating you? I can be friends with other people too, you know." Jude snapped, although he regretted it immediately. His nerves were getting to him. 

"I know." Kieren said miserably. Another man came out of the stables. It was Kieren's turn. Jude could feel himself getting jumpier, he doubted that he could go through with his previous plan. 

"Listen," Jude whispered, "When you come out, tell me what happens, okay?"

"What do you mean?"

"Just tell me if she asks you to undress." Jude rubbed his chest self-consciously. "I don't want to undress in front of her."

Kieren agreed to report back to him, and jogged towards the stables. 

"Hello there, love! Shut the door, will you?" Kieren did so. "I'm your platoon's nurse, Amy Dyer. But you can call me Amy, love. No need for formalities when you chaps are saving the world, eh? Sit up on this bench here, for me, will you?" She gabbled, soothing down here apron. 

"Will I need to..." Kieren gestured at his clothes.

"Yes! If you would, please, love. What do they call you, then?" Amy asked, getting a stethoscope from a case set 

"Kieren Walker." He told her, unbuttoning his shirt.

"Liutenant Kieren Walker! Lovely! Take a deep breath for me please, Kieren Walker... And out... Yes, good! Now, cough for me. Perfect!"

"Can I put my shirt on again?" Kieren asked, as she pulled the stethoscope away.

"Of course, silly! Now,let me ask you a few questions about your family's health history..."

 

Jude watched the closed door of the stables intently, praying that Kieren would return with good news. He had already lost his nerve. He doubted the nurse would ever listen to his pleas. "Monroe!" He heard Lawrence shout. When he turned around,  Jack Lawrence was plodding towards him, with an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips.  _Not now..._ _  
_

"Lawrence! Did that face of yours break a mirror yet?"  

"Nice one, Monroe. You're almost as witty as my dead cat." He drawled, wrestling a box of matches from his pocket.

Jude considered this claim, thinking of his own cat at home."To be fair, cats are notoriously witty creatures." 

"Not when they're dead." Lawrence pointed out. "D'you want a smoke?"

"I'll pass, I'm in with Dyer next."

"Don't even try it on her, Monroe. She's riding the Jack train." Lawrence winked.

"Aren't we all though?" Jude said, laughing. "What makes you think she's in love with you?"

"Well, she told me to take my shirt off, and she called me, ' _love'._ Repeatedly." Lawrence boasted. 

Jude's stomach dropped. "Y-you had to take your shirt off?" He asked, rubbing his chest again. His heart was thudding against it rapidly.

"Don't worry about it, Monroe. Not many men compare to the likes of me." Lawrence cackled, puffing out his already wide chest. Jude stared at it in envy. 

"Let's go for a walk." he suggested, his voice quavering. "I'll take you up on that smoke after all.

 

"That's you, Kieren Walker! A clean bill of health, and you're on your way, love!

"Thank you very much, Amy!" Kieren smiled, reaching for the door.

"Come back any time, okay? Even if you're not hurt, I'd love a natter!" Amy said, beaming.

"I will!" Kieren promised. "Good bye!" He pushed against the door with his shoulder, and it swung open slowly with a screech of rusty hinges. He peered out at the short line of men waiting to be seen, searching for Jude. But he was not there. He was nowhere to be seen. 

Kieren wasn't worried, after all Jude was older than he was. However, he was concerned about Jude missing his health check. What if something went wrong? And if Jude had run off with Lawrence, which was a definite possibility, Kieren couldn't deny that he would feel offended. 

"Freddie." He said softly, walking towards his superior officer. "Where did Monroe go? He was next in line."

"Preston. You're supposed to call me Preston, or Second Lieutenant Preston." Freddie grumbled. He was leaning against the side of the stable, staring at the rising sun.

"Fine.  _Preston_ , then..."Kieren said, mimicking his tired tone.  "Doesn't that hurt your eyes?" Freddie shrugged. "So, where did Monroe go?"

"I don't know who you're talking about. I stopped learning names after the first few waves."

"Oh. Well, I'm going to look for him." Kieren said. 

"Do what you want."

Kieren nodded a farewell, and headed towards the farmhouse. He passed the men waiting in line, the ones from the battle bus, and made a mental note to learn their names later. 

"Why are you still here?" Rick snapped when Kieren entered the farmhouse. He was sitting at the large wooden dining table in the centre of the room, next to Captain Epstein, who sighed loudly at Rick's rude remark. 

"Honestly, Macy. I've told you before, you have no-"

"Kieren, you're not supposed to be here." Rick interrupted. "It's better for everyone if you go home, I'm serious." 

Kieren stared at the brass pots lining the white painted stone wall, under the window. He ignored his friend, and spoke directly to Epstein. "Did Private Monroe come through here, sir?" 

Epstein smiled warmly. He said, "The Irish lad? He just went upstairs a while ago. Are you sharing your room with him?"

"Is that allowed, sir?" Kieren asked. Rick glared at him.

"Please Kieren, call me Joseph." Epstein said, "But I don't see any harm in you two sharing."

"Thank you!" Kieren said graciously. He paused, he had wanted to ask about his promotion but Jude took priority now. 

"Is there something else, Kieren?" Epstein asked, twisting around in his chair to put his empty teacup in the sink. 

"No, sir... I mean Joseph. Thank you, again." Kieren said, before running up the stairs. He heard Rick mocking him under his breath, and rolled his eyes. 

"Jude?" He called, knocking on their door. "You might miss Nurse Dyer if you don't take your place in line... Jude?" He opened the door slowly, finding Jude sitting on his bed, writing a letter. The stench hit him next, a smell of cigarettes hung in the air, choking him slightly. "This room smells awful. What happened?"

"Nothing. I'm writing to my brother." Jude said, refusing to look up from his letter. He didn't want to see Kieren right now, but he especially didn't want to see the nurse.

"Were you smoking in here?" Kieren asked, trying to sound casual. He sat on the bed opposite, there wasn't much room anywhere else. 

"No." said Jude. "I had one before, though. With Jack Lawrence." He looked up from his letter. "Does that bother you?"

Kieren considered his answer carefully. "It's doesn't smell good, that's all." He waited for Jude to respond. Silence. "I'm going to open the window, ok?" Jude shrugged.

Their room was the smallest in the farm house, with just enough room for two slim beds, two ottomans at their ends, and a single window facing the door. The walls were the same as those in those in the kitchen, and they had no shelves for personal belongings. They wouldn't be staying long anyway, Kieren reasoned. 

"Your letter can wait, you should really be seeing the nurse, Jude." Kieren said cautiously. 

"I'm fine, so." Jude said, "I don't need to see her. Besides, I don't want to take off my shirt." 

"Do you smoke cigarettes regularly?" Kieren asked, hoping to change the subject. Thankfully, the smell already was beginning to alleviate.

"N-No." Jude said. He was close to tears, Kieren noticed, but he didn't dare mention it. "That was my first."

"Oh."

"Kieren?"

"Yes?"

"I miss home." Jude paused, "It probably sound silly, since I've only been gone a few days, b-but... I've never been away this long. And Jack... He reminds me of my father. I mean, he was never that handsome, but they have similar attitudes, do you know what I mean, so?" 

Kieren nodded. "Was your father a heavy smoker?"

"Unbelievably heavy. I thought smoking would help me feel to closer him. B-But I hated it. I feel so wretched, I almost hacked up a lung when I breathed it in. And it hurts so much to cough. My mouth t-tastes like an ashtray...Maybe that's why he drank so much before he died, to get the taste out? I can't imagine going to heaven with a taste like this in my mouth."

He was opening about his crying now, although he didn't cry like Kieren. The tears welled up in his watery eyes, only letting a few run down his cheeks. His bottom lip quivered like a child's. "I'm sorry, Kieren. I haven't cried in front of someone for ages. This is so embarrassing..." He grumbled, wiping at his eyes.

"It's fine." Kieren said quickly. "What're you writing to your brother about?"

"J-just reminiscing. Childhood memories and things like that." He sniffled. 

"Good idea, I should mention that to Jem when I write my letter." 

"What kind of games did you two play? Simon and I used to take turns on his bicycle, or play conkers during autumn." Jude asked, managing to regain his composure. Kieren realised Jude was asing for a distraction. He thought backwards, to the times he didn't spend with Rick. To the times before gender had separated their hobbies.

"We liked mystery games." He said finally. "We used to play a game where I would hide one of her dolls around the house, and then leave her clues scribbled on pieces of paper, and hide them too. Each clue would lead to another, until she found her doll."

"Where did you hide the papers?"

"Erm..In vases, behind a picture frame, down a shoe... Places like that. I left one in her pillow case once, that took her hours to find!"

"Clever." Jude said, in a slightly sarcastic tone.

"Okay, I've had an idea." Kieren said. "I'll go with you to the nurse. Amy and I get on quite well, if I explain you're uncomfortable, I'm sure she won't make you take it off if you don't want to. Would that help?"

Jude began to smile. He nodded, "That would be great, Kieren, thank you!"

"Well then,  _come on_." Kieren laughed, copying Jude's earlier excitement. He grabbed his friend's wrists. " _Up! Up! Up!_ "

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Thanks for reading this first chapter of my fic! I have around 20 chapters planned out, and I plan to update every two weeks, so please come along for the ride~ :D  
> Every chapter name comes from a WW1 poem I covered in English, you should really check them out! Any questions or constructive criticism, please feel free to leave a comment!  
> Thank you!


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